Sally personally felt that she should follow their righteous example and yet at the present moment could scarcely make up her mind to be so virtuous. Slipping a box from her pocket, she placed a chocolate between her small white teeth. The box had come through the mail the other day with a note from Dan Webster, her old childhood friend. In Paris he had suggested that she should come home before her other friends. He now expressed himself as pleased at her return. The letter struck Sally as not so enthusiastic as she had the right to expect. Dan Webster always had been her especial friend since they were children. However, he was busy, having recently taken full charge of his father’s farm in New Hampshire, so Sally presumed he was too absorbed to give much thought to her. Hearing a sound outside in the hall, she got up and went to the open door. The hall was nearly half the size of the living-room with a second large fireplace. Mary Gilchrist had just come in from the outdoors. “Why, Gill, I thought you were out for an early morning walk! I heard Bettina say we were not to expect you at breakfast as you had made yourself a cup of coffee and some toast and would not return until we had finished. How white you look! Are you worrying over what almost happened yesterday? Gill, it bores me so to have people worry over the tragedies or the misfortunes that do not occur. Alice says that is because I have a practical and unemotional nature. Perhaps that is true, I do not know; it only seems to me a waste of time and energy. Elce was not hurt yesterday, not seriously. She slept perfectly and says her arm is not painful. Yet you look as if you were seriously ill.” Mary Gilchrist, who was sometimes called Gill and sometimes Mary by the other Camp Fire girls, smiled at Sally’s matter-of-fact manner. “You are a comfortable person, Sally, and usually I agree with what you have just said and try to follow your illustrious example. Only at present I feel as if I ought to do some kind of penance for my fault. I came to have a quiet talk with Mrs. Burton, and to ask her if she feels I have forfeited my right to be a member of her Camp Fire group.” Smiling, Sally shook her head. “Oh, you need not trouble over any criticism from Tante! Only on the most unexpected occasions is she ever stern and I am sure she will appreciate that you were sufficiently frightened not to be so reckless a second time. By the way, I must tell you something amusing in order to cheer you.